


The Tommy/Merton Picture Show

by kayliemalinza



Category: Big Wolf on Campus
Genre: Coming Out, Gen, Past Relationship(s), Realization
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-04-07
Updated: 2005-04-07
Packaged: 2017-11-13 16:35:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/505537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayliemalinza/pseuds/kayliemalinza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merton shows Tommy <i>Rocky Horror</i>, and it opens up a whole can of worms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Tommy/Merton Picture Show

Tommy went over to the Lair after dinner and found Merton in front of the TV, cackling.

"Hey… buddy," he said cautiously, coming up behind the two chairs.

"Oh, hey Tommy," said Merton, spitting out flakes of popcorn. "I just started _Rocky Horror Picture Show_. Wanna watch it with me?"

Tommy's initial reaction was to say no, but the scene on the TV looked harmless enough; a white clapboard church, a newlywed couple surrounded by their family and friends. "OK," he said. Sure, the title of the movie was a little threatening, but with Merton's stuff, you could never tell. He'd once played a song that he claimed was by Pink, but instead of something upbeat and danceable like "Let's Get This Party Started", the song was what Merton termed "an aural poem about the prolonged, cyclic death of the spirit in the modern middle class" and what Tommy called six minutes of toneless guitar and random clock noises. Which is probably why the song was called "Time", but he still didn't get it. So it figured that a movie called "Rocky Horror Picture Show" would look like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting. That happened a lot around Merton; something bizarre would seem completely normal in the Lair but as soon as Tommy walked outside he would scratch his head and wonder if there was something in the incense.

In the end, he did what he always did; he plopped down in a chair, grabbed some popcorn, and laughed in all the right places.

"It's really quite stunning," said Merton as the bride threw the bouquet. "Even decades later, Richard O'Brien's exploration of sexual ambiguity and the role of hedonism in society is as shocking and poignant as the first stage production in a 60-seater London theatre in 1965. Couched, of course, in classic horror b-film clichés and tounge-in-cheek song and dance."

"This is a musical?" asked Tommy. "Like _Oklahoma_?"

Merton blinked. "Yes, Tommy. It's just like _Oklahoma_." He looked over at his friend. "Tommy, have you seen _The Rocky Horror Picture Show_ before?"

"Nope," said Tommy. "Never heard of it."

"Oh, I think you'll like it," said Merton, smirking as Brad and Janet drove through the thunderstorm that would change their lives forever.

\---

Merton divided his attention between the screen and Tommy's face, waiting to see how Tommy would react. So far, he hadn't reacted much at all, besides smiling a little bit and tapping his feet during the Time Warp. He seemed to accept that this was just another one of Merton's weird horror flicks; nothing shocking in that.

But then, Tim Curry hadn't shown up yet.

Brad and Janet stood unsuspectingly in front of the elevator as it lowered to their level; there was a shot of 5-inch sequenced shoes stomping out a beat, then a black cloak, and then- Tim Curry as Dr. Frank Furter! That curly-haired, heavily made-up head seeming to float above a snazzy silver collar.

"Oh, he's a vampire, isn't he!" said Tommy. "And all those weird people are his vampire friends!"

Then Tim Curry flung off his cloak.

". . . he's a vampire who died in a disco?" Tommy said, seeming perplexed.

Merton stared at him, wondering what exactly Tommy thought people normally wore to discos. "It _was_ shot in the seventies, but I don't think-"

"Well, that explains everything," said Tommy, settling back in his chair with an untroubled grin. "Maybe he gets staked with his own shoes. That'd be ironic. Or is that a coincidence?"

"Oh, that'd definitely be ironic," said Merton. "But that's not what happens."

"He doesn't get staked?" asked Tommy.

"Just. . . watch," said Merton. Apparently, it would take more than a bit of drag to phase Tommy Dawkins. But then again, he'd seen Merton in full drag- he'd seen Merton pregnant, actually- so maybe his lack of reaction wasn't so strange after all. But when Dr. Frank Furter created a blonde muscle-man named Rocky to be his plaything, Tommy had to be a little disturbed by that, right?

Nope.

"Hey! It's like Frankenstein!" said Tommy, glancing proudly over at Merton as Rocky rose from the rainbow-colored tank.

"You know, you're right, Tommy," said Merton. "They're doing an homage to Frankenstein. I never noticed it before."

"Geez," said Tommy. "Dude, it's obvious. It's a good thing I'm here to point this stuff out, huh?"

"Yep," said Merton. "Sure is." He sunk down in his chair, scowling at the screen. Tommy was so sheltered that Merton had thought his reaction would be priceless; even better than when Becky walked in during the pool-orgy scene when she was twelve. Well, it wouldn't be the first time a plan had backfired. It figured that Tommy would be so sheltered that he wouldn't react at all to a man wearing a corset and high heels chasing another man in a gold speedo around a pink-tiled laboratory. Not even when they walked arm and arm into a bedroom to the accompaniment of the wedding processional.

Tommy cocked his head to the side and leaned forward. "Did they just-"

"What? Did they do what? Did you notice something, Tommy?" said Merton, hope flaring up anew.

"Never mind," said Tommy. "It was nothing."

Merton pouted. It wasn't the first plan that had fallen apart, but that didn't mean he had to like it. He continued watching the movie in silence, not even bothering to glance over at Tommy.

Suddenly, Tommy yelled "Oh my God!" and sat bolt upright, pointing at the screen. "They're having _sex_!"

Merton squeaked in surprise, nearly jumping from his chair. He looked over at Tommy, who was staring in complete shock as Dr. Frank Furter seduced the upright Brad Majors in a gauzy blue bedroom.

"Well, it's foreplay, actually," said Merton, getting control of himself, "but the sex is implied."

"But. . . they're both men!" cried Tommy, gripping the arms of the chair so tightly that Merton feared for the safety of the leather.

"Yes, Tommy," said Merton. He studied his friend carefully. "Do you. . . think there's something wrong with that?"

Tommy darted a glance at him, barely able to take his eyes off the screen. "I just. . . I didn't know you could do that," he said finally.

"Sure," said Merton. "Gays do it all the time."

"You mean-" Tommy stole another glance at Merton. "Men who like having sex with. . . other men."

"That's right," said Merton.

"But-"

"Hmm?"

Tommy relaxed his grip on the chair, looking like he's just smelled something funky. "But it's _Brad_ ," he said, flinging a hand at the TV. "He's so. . . _normal_."

"Gay people can be completely normal," said Merton. "They're just gay, is all. Kind of like you being a werewolf."

"Like me being a-" Tommy whipped his head around and stared at Merton, his eyes as wide as they could possibly go. "Oh my God, Merton," he said. "I think I'm gay!"

Merton jumped up so fast the chair fell over. "You didn't _know_ that?" he yelled.

Tommy shook his head. "No!" he yelled. "Did you?"

"Of course _I_ knew!" said Merton. "It all adds up: the constant touching, your failed relationships with Stacy and Lori- who, by the way, would have been willing to go all the way if you had _ever_ shown _any_ interest-"

"What?"

"Oh, she mentioned it to me after you guys broke up, she thought you were-" Merton giggled, setting the chair upright, "she thought you were dating me, or something."

"She what?"

"A common misconception, apparently."

Tommy looked like he'd tasted something funky. "A common miscon-"

"You like _boy bands_ , Tommy. Of course you're gay."

"Just 'cause I like boy bands doesn't mean I'm gay, Merton."

"Well, no, but there's a million other things- oh, it's _obvious_ , Tommy, you'd have to be an idiot not to know."

Tommy stared down at his hands. " _I_ didn't know," he mumbled.

"No, I- leaping plague rats, Tommy!" Merton clicked off the TV and crouched in front of Tommy. "You're not an idiot, you're just sheltered. You'd never thought of it before, that's all. Now, what makes you think you're gay?"

Tommy fiddled nervously with the hem of his shirt. "Well, I. . . I think girls are pretty, and all, but I don't really, uh, want to um. . . . and I've been having these dreams? You know? About, um. . . well, it's stupid."

"No, Tommy, none of this is stupid," said Merton, soothingly petting his hand. "Come on, tell Dr. Dingle. It'll feel good to get it off your chest."

"Well, ok," said Tommy. He let out a sigh. "They're about John Elway."

Merton made a weird choking noise.

"Are you laughing at me?" asked Tommy.

"No. No, I am not." said Merton. "So you dream about John Elway. What generally happens in these dreams?" He slid back into his chair, lacing his fingers together and looking at Tommy expectantly.

"Well, we're both playing for the Denver Broncos. It's pre-season training and he's about to throw a pass. He pump-fakes it a few times-" Merton twitched, his mind suddenly aflame with the image of John Elway thrusting his hand back and forth. Tommy continued, not noticing at all. "And then he throws this gorgeous pass- I mean, it was at the perfect angle, and the spin on that baby must have been- well, anyway, I catch it so smoothly, man," said Tommy, pantomiming cradling a football to his chest. "It didn't even hurt! And it was a really long pass, too."

"Hmm," said Merton. He stroked his chin. "I see. Veeeery interesting."

"What?" said Tommy, leaning forward.

"This is a case of your subconscious imagination expressing your sexual desire for John Elway. No, more than sexual desire- your desire to _procreate_ with him. The key is the football, which he passes to you and which you cradle in your arms."

"So. . . the football was like, a baby?"

"Mmhmm."

"And John Elway and I were its parents?"

"That's right," said Merton. "Standard dream subtext. Was that the end of the dream?" Tommy shook his head. "So what happened next?"

"Well, I'm holding the football- baby- whatever, and Elway comes down the field to congratulate me, and then-" he paused and shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

"Then what?" said Merton. "Did he give you a friendly slap on the butt? A post-catch smooch?"

"No," said Tommy, not looking at Merton.

"Then what happened?"

"I woke up."

"What? That's it? How does that make you think you're gay?"

"'Cause of all that stuff you said, about the baby and everything."

"Tommy, I just made that stuff up. What's the _real_ reason?"

Tommy shifted uneasily. "When I woke up, I... uh..." He made a vague, but eloquent gesture.

"You had a wet dream about _football_?" yelled Merton.

"You said it was a baby!"

"Nuh uh, Romeo, you're not getting out of this one. I don't believe this. Oh wait, yes I do."

"What?" asked Tommy apprehensively.

"You're not gay, you're just a hopeless jock."

"No, Merton, I really think I'm gay!"

"Why? Because you look at your teammates in the locker room?"

"Yeah, that's part of it."

"All athletes do that!"

"But, all the other stuff you said! About Stacey and the boy-band and everything!"

"Forget it, Tommy. You're not gay. You're not even straight! You're just a quarterback." Merton stood up to walk away. Tommy followed after, grabbing his had.

"Please, Merton, I'm really confused and you're the only person I can talk to about this. Help me? Please?" He gazed pleadingly up at Merton, gently clasping the pale hand in his own.

Merton sighed. "Ok, ok," he said. "Just stop looking at me like that."

Tommy grinned and jumped to his feet. "Thanks, buddy. I knew you'd help me out."

"That is the price a kind soul must pay," said Merton, heading for the bookcase behind his desk. "Hounded by unfortunates, constantly taking advantage of my generous nature, my loving soul, my unfailing sense of noblesse oblige-"

"Merton."

"Hmm? Oh, right. Well, here's a few books to get you started," said Merton, opening the cabinet doors on the bottom of the bookshelf and plucking out a few brightly colors books with titles like, _So, You Think You're Gay_ and _Homosexuality for Dummies_.

"I didn't know you had all these books, Merton," said Tommy, trying to balance them in his arms. "How come you keep them hidden in that cabinet?"

"They don't match the décor," said Merton. "That, and homosexuality is somewhat of a touchy subject in Middle America. You might not want to keep these in your locker at school."

"Merton, thanks for all these, but-" Tommy dropped the books onto Merton's desk with a grunt, "I was kind of hoping for something a little more... interesting."

Merton stroked his chin. "Well, I still have the monkey puppet I used to explain evolution to Tim and Travis. If I have another around, I could show you the basics." Tommy made a face. "Ok, failing that, then I have some buddy movies you could watch. They don't deal explicitly with homosexuality, but the subtext is there and besides, most of the actors are pretty hot."

Tommy stepped forward into Merton's personal space. "That sounds tempting, but how about something... hands on?"

Merton blinked. "You want- with me? With the hands and the homosexuality and the- eh?"

"Sure," said Tommy, stepping behind Merton and rubbing his shoulders. "if I want to see if I'm really attracted to guys, then the best thing would be to make out with one, right?" He flashed a smile that Merton supposed he meant to be seductive (which it wasn't, Tommy being just a little naïve for this sort of thing) and sexy (which it was, because Tommy was, well, the boy wasn't the most popular kid in school because of his math grades, alright?), but Merton was- well, there was a thing.

Merton broke away from Tommy and turned to face him. "First of all, that's a misleading concept. You're so full of hormones that you're gonna think that making out with _anyone_ is hot, and besides, you can determine your sexuality without physical contact of any kind. You just have to figure out which gender you like looking at more." Tommy opened his mouth to interrupt, but Merton went on. "Second of all, it's a just plain bad idea."

Tommy set his jaw, looking confused and a little hurt. "Why? Is it because you're not attracted to me?"

"No," said Merton, laughing a bit. "Believe me, that's the last- wait a minute, what makes you think I like guys?"

Tommy rolled his eyes. "You've got all these books lying around. And you like that Stony Horror movie thing."

" _Rocky_ Horror," said Merton. "And this is purely for academic research! An intellectual enterprise with no basis in personal interest. And _Rocky Horror Picture Show_ is a sci-fi classic. A commentary on the genre! I don't see how you could read homosexual subtext into the film at all!"

Tommy gave him a look.

"OK, ok," said Merton. " _Rocky Horror Picture Show_ is awash in innuendo and champions hedonism and sexual liberation as an idyllic way of life. And I'm bisexual. But with a _definite_ preference for women."

"But you like men, too," said Tommy.

"Well, technically, but-"

"So it shouldn't be a problem. We're friends- it won't be a big deal."

"No, that's where you're wrong, Tommy. Very very wrong!"

Tommy jerked his head back. "What are you talking about?"

"Think about it, Tommy. We're friends; you think you're gay. We get with the smoochy-smoochy, then uh oh! You don't want to be gay anymore! Suddenly you don't want to be around me or look me in the eye; you're afraid I'll tell everyone; you think I'm a freak! So you stop talking to me or being my friend. I become no more than an inconvenient chapter of your shadowy past, useful only beating up in gym class in order to prove your masculinity and mask your insecurities."

Tommy was horrified. "I would never do that to you, Merton! You're my best friend!"

Merton shook his head. "You say that now, Tommy, but you'll be singing a different tune when the heat is on. I've been in this situation before, and it isn't pretty.

Tommy's eyes went wide and he grabbed Merton by the shoulders. "You mean somebody did that to you?"

"No. Did I say that? No no no. You completely misunderstood me, Tommy. All my relationships have ended amicably! Sure, a lot of lads and lasses were quite saddened to be no longer basking in the glow of my romantic intentions, but they coped well."

Tommy got that determined look in his eye. "Merton, if somebody hurt you like that, just tell me and I'll go wolf 'em up for you."

Merton wiggled his way out of Tommy's grip. "Tommy, that's the problem. I can't let you commit homicide just to avenge me! Well, I could, and it'd be really cool, but there are various city ordinances against that and you'd get blood in your fur and there's the potential for a mob forming in the aftermath, and, well, don't worry about it. It all happened a long time ago.

Tommy didn't look convinced. "No-one should be treating you that way, Merton."

Merton snorted. "So they should stick to just stuffing me into my own locker? It's _fine_ , Tommy. The guy's a jerk anyway, you know him."

"Oh yeah, that's right," said Tommy. He attempted a casual pose. "What's his name again?"

"It's- no," said Merton. "He has no name. He doesn't exist! He moved."

"Merton-"

"Why don't I give you some more books," said Merton, grabbing some randomly off the shelves and pushing them, along with the stack already on the desk, into Tommy's arms. "And you can go home and read them, and figure some stuff out, and not think about my love life at all, ok?"

Tommy sighed, adjusting the load as Merton steered him towards the door. "Ok," he said. "I'll go home. But if you ever want to talk about that guy-"

"Absolutely," said Merton. "I'll call you! Have a nice night, now- Good bye!" he slammed the door shut. He slumped against it, catching his breath. Then he ran to his phone and dialed.

"Brett?" he said. "It's Merton. Hi. Um, I was just having a conversation with Tommy, and he, sort of, realized he was gay." A pause. "I was surprised too! I mean, the guy's a little thick, but you'd think that by senior year- anyway. We may have, perhaps, gotten on to the subject of my past relationships.

"No, I didn't mention you.

"I did let slip what happened before I met you, and uh, Tommy was a little upset about that, and wanted to avenge my good name. I appreciate the gesture, of course, but I'm a little worried about the potential bloodshed, so could you do me a favor and if Tommy ever talks to you, could you never mention that I had anything other than a bully/victim relationship with Chuck?

"Really? Thanks, Brett! Yeah, see you in Biology tomorrow." Merton hung up and collapsed in his chair, running a hand down his face. _Why, oh why am I so attractive?_ he thought.


End file.
